


Left Behind

by likeadeuce



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street
Genre: Gen, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When you figure it out, you won't have to do it anymore. And you'll be gone. If I figure it out first, same deal."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Post-ep fic for season 4, "Sniper 2". So spoilers for both "Sniper" episodes.

Once Frank had bolted out the door, Tim and Megan lapsed into silence.

She watched him stir his coffee. "So," she said, "Does Pembleton do that a lot?"

Tim put the cup down. "Does Pembleton do what?"

Megan touched the glass Frank had left on the table and scooted it toward herself. "Throw a fit about some minor detail, jump up and leave the room. Is there a name for that?"

"Oh. That." Tim was looking at the door Frank walked out through, reading the name Jimmy's backwards through the glass. "Sometimes I call it 'the Pembleton.'

"So. . ." Megan lifted the straw from her club soda and slipped it into Frank's abandoned glass. It tasted like a perfectly good egg cream. "He has done that a lot."

"Oh, you know," Tim answered solemnly. "Once or twice." Then he gave her a smile, a big grin that caught her off guard. She'd never really given much thought to Tim Bayliss before this weekend, much less to his smile. When she did think about him, it was as a somber guy who could make the sudden swing to goofy when they'd all been working too long without enough sleep. But since that moment the other day, when she'd seen him out on the roof, out of ideas for chasing down their first sniper, and drawing an imaginary bead on passing pedestrians -- well, suddenly, there were new pieces of information about Tim Bayliss to consider. Not that she thought he'd meant anything by the action. Still, it was a new insight. Like finding out what somebody said when they talked in their sleep.

Thinking about the man sitting across from her was easier, right now, than figuring out what she was going to do next, anyway.

"What's the story with you and Frank?" she asked.

Tim blinked. "There has to be a story?"

"There doesn't have to be. But I did wonder. I ran into him now and again, when I was in narcotics. He didn't work with a partner, then. He wouldn't. Everybody knew that about Pembleton. So . . .?"

"So how'd I get so lucky?" Tim let out a sharp laugh. "Persistence combined with not knowing any better combined with Gee not letting us do it any different."

"Oh, yeah. I figured Al's matchmaking prowess would have a role in this somehow." She hesitated. "God, I don't know if I can still call Giardello 'Al'. I'll be working under him. That is. . ."

"If you decide to stay?"

"If he wants me to stay," Megan answered. "I just got demoted from Captain to Detective in one night. I don't think what I want is going to enter into it."

"Sure, it does, Cap. . .Lieutenant. . ." His head fell into his hands. "Oh, damn. Sorry."

"Megan is fine." She reached out and touched his hand.

He looked up, and spoke hesitantly. "M-Megan. You're over qualified, for this job, M-Megan. You can do something else."

She laughed. "We all can do something else. That's hardly the point. Nobody's in Homicide because it's the only thing they can do. Mostly I don't want to quit because I know that's exactly what they want me to do. They figure I'm only in this for my career, and the demotion is the best way to can me while pretending that I'm the one who pulled the trigger."

"And?"

"And, I don't want them to be right. I'm be stubborn like that. But we all can do something else."

"I guess?" Tim looked uncertain. "It's all I've wanted to do for as long as I can remember. So it's hard to think of it any other way." He drained his coffee cup, then held it out in front of him. "Possibly, I need role models other than Pembleton."

"Possibly," Megan agreed. "Though if you feel the need to slam that mug down on the table and go storming out of here, I'll know you can't help yourself."

"I appreciate that." He set the cup down softly. "But I'm not Pembleton." The grin came over his face again, then vanished just as quickly. "Just in case you were wondering, I don't always take target practice on passers-by."

"I wasn't wondering," Megan lied, then, to his skeptical look. "Okay, maybe I was wondering a little. But I figured you were trying to get into our killer's head."

Tim sighed. "Trying. It turned out to be pointless. Mariner was just a very sick man. A sad, sick, lonely man and Roby. . ."

"Roby was worse," Megan said. "A copycat of a sad, sick, lonely man, who didn't want anyone else to get all the attention." She shook her head. "The crazy part is I've seen worse."

"We've all seen worse," Tim agreed. "And yet. . .we keep coming back. Why is that?"

"If I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"No you won't," Tim said. She looked up at him in surprise, but he continued, "When you figure it out, you won't have to do it anymore. And you'll be gone. If I figure it out first, same deal."

"You've got a point." Megan sighed. "People get out all the time. And if they're smart, they don't waste their time trying to explain themselves to the poor souls they left behind. Because if they could figure it out for themselves, they'd be gone already."

The silence fell again, and Tim said, "So, you'll be in tomorrow?"

"Couldn't keep me away." She raised her empty glass, and he raised his empty mug, and they clinked them together, and they sat there in silence until it was time to go.


End file.
